Feathers Of A Raven: Year 1
by Ankoku-Ren
Summary: Harry Potter died the night Lord Voldemort found the Potters but, thanks to the sacrifice of his parents, Morrígan-the Goddess of Death, brings him back to the word of living. Watch as the boy struggles to understand how to live when he has been dead for as long as he can remember.
1. Prologue

Prologue:

The goddess watched as the hooded figure finally reached the door of the house. She could see the people inside – a man with wild hair and a woman with red hair carrying a baby, scurrying away in panic. The woman ran upstairs with the baby, as the hooded figure entered the house and threw a curse at the man. Amid the green light, she saw the man's soul leave his body, looking around, not knowing what to do. Soon after one of her she saw as Leila extended her hand towards the man. However, James Potter didn't take it and ran upstairs to help his wife. Leila stared at him with her glowing green eyes and wheezed after him in a blur of caramel curls and black shawls, unseen by the living.

Soon the hooded figure stepped over the man's body and headed upstairs. Morrígan watched as the abomination ordered the woman to move aside, but the redhead didn't listen. She begged for her child to be spared but the evil creature would have none of it and killed the woman before lifting his wand towards the boy. The parents of the boy watched with tears in their and cried, begged to whoever was listening to save the child.

"Please, please, we are willing to die million times just to keep him save." wailed the woman, making Morrígan smile. Freezing time as it is, she stepped in front of James and Lily Potter.

"I can arrange that." she said

"How? Please, help him!" begged the woman through sobs.

"You both sacrificed your lives for him and that is why my offer stands. As long as you both are willing to give me your souls in exchange of his, I will make sure he lives."

"How do we give you our souls?"

"You have to give away the privilege of reincarnation. Meaning that this will be your last life." she explained. "You will, however, be able to see everybody you loved in the Afterlife, including your son, when or if he joins you.

"What do we have to do?" asked James, his face making it evident it pained him to think about not being able to help his son when he needed him.

"You will go with Leila, she will escort you." she answered before turning towards the girl.

"Leila I want you to escort them as fast as possible, by the time I reach you, their souls need to be given away."

"Understood, Mistress!" answered Leila and prepared to fly, grabbing James and Lily's hands. The Goddess waved her hand and as soon as time started flowing again, Leila had already disappeared in a furious race to reach the destination fast enough so that her mistress can take the boy's soul, escort it to her kingdom and bring it back before the end of the curse.

Morrígan grabbed the hand of the boy's ghost and flew to the Underworld, there Leila gave her the String of Reincarnation she had taken from James and Lily Potter's body and handed them to the Goddess, who tied them with the boy's soul as fast as she could before flying towards the living word to return the soul. She managed to tie the body to it's soul just in time, as the green light hit the boy half a second later. She watched as the curse rebounded towards the abomination and chased it away from it's solid existence.

She turned towards the baby and saw how the soul stood attached to the body but not quite there. She knew that this was supposed to happen as the Ravens needed to earn their place among the living. The soul, unable to reunite with the body, transformed into a pure black raven with emerald green eyes. The baby resumed breathing as he was now tied to its soul. From that moment all, the boy would exist without emotions and feelings. He would be just an emotionless shell until the moment he found his mate – the only creature that would be able to make him whole again by reuniting completely his body and soul.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter, and may luck be on your side!" she kissed his forehead, giving him her blessing and swore to herself that she wouldn't let him die. "I will send one of my demons to watch over you, child. Now, that you are targeted by the Immortals, you will need luck and help more than ever.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

"Harry! Harry! Come on! Wake up!" beckoned Rin as she pushed the small boy in front of her.

"I'm wide awake Rin." he mumbled as he got up and stretched his limps.

"Another night during which you're an insomniac, huh?" teased the demon but, despite the smile on her face, worry was evident in her red eyes. Harry merely nodded, his bangs obscuring the left part of his face, but didn't say anything. Rin talked enough for both of them. When he first met her, back then when he was a baby, she seemed heartless and cruel, not wanting to look after a "ningen" (he later learned that meant human) but she warmed up after the raven on his shoulder almost clawed her eyes out. Instead of getting angry, she looked at him amused and started talking to him, only calling him peasant whenever she was annoyed with him not responding for a long time. Rin lost interest quickly and whenever she was born, she tended to set villages on fire, just for the fun of it.

"Hey, Rin! What's it like being a girl?" he asked, just to keep her somewhat entertained. Apparently that worked unexpectedly well as she burst out laughing.

"Y-you, haha, you think I'm a g-girl. Hahaha!" now she was crying and rolling on the ground.

"Aren't you?" he asked now somewhat curious (if it were possible for him to be curious)

"N-no I'm not." laughter had decreased to giggles "I'm sorry. I forget that you humans have set genders from the day you are born."

"You see, demons are quite different. When we are...uhh...brought into existence we are genderless. Meaning we don't have...reproductive organs...well we actually have something like a female reproductive organ. Only when we have obtained complete control do we get a defined gender. You see...demons who don't have complete control over their powers can get...quite destructive. The only thing that calms us down is blood. It's smell, it's warmth, the way it looks...this makes us feel calm and peaceful. However, once we learn how to control our abilities, we don't _need_ to be in contact with blood so often. That's when we choose what gender we wish to be. Our gender actually is pretty meaningless. I don't even know why we have it. Demons can't bear children, after all, so it's pretty pointless. "Meh." here she shrugged. "At least if I'm a guy I wouldn't have to deal with some balloons jiggling on my chest."

"So, you are a guy, then?"

"I don't know. Nobody really knows until I reach maturity, meaning I fist have to learn to control my powers completely. If I am a guy, I would choose another name 'cause Rin is too girly. Aaaaanyway, what d'ya wanna do today?"

"Doesn't matter." the boy shrugged his shoulders. "As long as you don't set anything on fire."

"Oh come on, that was just one time! I only killed a couple of people."

"You call destroying a whole city and three fourths of it's population "a couple of people? Really?"

Instead of answering Rin puffed her cheeks – a habit she seemed to have, whenever she was slightly annoyed.

"Okay Mr. Smarty Pants, you suggest something?" she poked him in the chest with her finger.

"Well...we can go "shopping". We need new clothes, because these are getting too small." answered Harry as he looked at his pants who now resembled shorts due to him growing taller since they had stolen it from a kid.

"Hmm, okay. But make sure to steal something nice this time. Not some rags." she sniffed at him. By rags, Rin meant everything "normal" that didn't give you a scare when you see a person wearing it.

"Whatever you say." he sighed in defeat.

Several hours later, they had managed to steal a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt for Harry. Rin, however, apparently was too insane to be satisfied by stealing from alive people, so she forced him to accompany her to some place in the woods. After several minutes of searching, Rin finally found what she was searching for.

"I met some human yesterday, who, had just killed his daughter's boyfriend because, apparently, the boy was, as he thought, "a freak." she said as she took the black leather pants, and black T-shirt, which was completely soaked with dry blood, off the boy's corpse before stuffing him back in the ground.

"And what, pray tell, would you say to whoever meets you while wearing this?" he drawled in a monotonous voice. Rin looked up and smiled brightly before transforming into black mist.

"Or I can just say that is the design of the shirt." she replied after transforming back.

"We should probably go back." whispered Harry as he turned around and they bought headed towards their house in silence.

By the time they went back, the sun had already set down.

"Are you hungry?" although she knew the answer to that question, she asked it just so they wouldn't stay in silence like that. Although she was a demon, silence creeped her out to no end.

"No." answered Harry before Rin nodded her head.

"Your birthday is in two minutes." said Rin suddenly from where they had been staring at the fireplace for hours, watching her practice her control over fire.

"Yeah."

"Honestly, I think I'll have more fun talking to the log that is freakin' burning right now." he huffed exasperated at the boy's antiques.

"Well, talk to it instead of me. I'm not stopping you." he said with a smirk on his face.

"Cheeky bastards." she stuck her tongue out at him and made a move to hit his arm, but the raven perched on his shoulder suddenly squawked at her and made a threatening move towards her hand. Fortunately she managed to save her "beautiful delicate fingers", as she called them, before the bird had succeeded in tearing them off her hand.

"Your soul has some serious anger management issues." she noted.

"Yeah, well, don't bug it then."

Rin opened her mouth to retort but a loud _thump,_ coming from the window, interrupted her.

"The hell was that?" the girl mumbled to herself as she opened the window. She looked down and saw a fairly large owl carrying some sort of letter.

"What is it?" asked Harry as he picked the letter from her before quickly reading it.  
"Ah, it's time for me to go to Hogwarts then. That's great. But...there is only one letter."

"I can't come with you. I don't like it but obviously I have no choice. However, I _have_ _to_ find somebody that will protect you in that school. It wouldn't do us any good if the Immortals find you where I can't step."

"Why can't you set foot in Hogwarts."

"Frankincense." the demon cringed. The thought of that horrible suffocating smell, that came from burning the damn thing, being latched onto your throat was enough to make her feel nauseous.

"I'll think of something, okay? For now, just try to sleep. There still has to be something even slightly alive in you. Later tomorrow...more like today, we'll go to that what's-it's-name place to buy you the necessary stuff."

"Kay. Night, Rin."

"Good night, Harry."

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**A/N: Okay, kinda short but I still have no idea where I'm going with the story. Hopefully, chapters will get longer as the plot clears out to me.**


	3. Diagonally and Knockturnally

Diagonally was _full_ of people - a quality that seemed to annoy Rin to no end if one was to take the angry strides and furious muttering as a sign of it. Harry could only catch a few words and judging by what he managed to hear, he needn't know the rest.

"Stupid ningens...your mother...hang you by...guts...your organs...filthy blood"

Some times, Harry thought, she could get really sadistic. There's a reason why her hair seemed to be strawberry blonde, even though it was not, and why her nails seemed to have something wrong with them, even though they didn't. Rin absolutely adored blood and whenever she managed to cover herself with it, she didn't wash it unless absolutely necessary.

Harry wondered what life would be without Rin. She was, after all, his guardian and it was her job to keep him safe but Frankincense can be really harmful to demons, so he knew there was no way for her to come.

"Okay, let's go get money out of your vault!" she said cheerfully as she practically forced him to enter a large building. Harry looked around and saw that the place was full of goblins, all of which stared at him and Rin.

"Mr. Harry Potter would like to take some money out of his vault." Rin said in an important voice, trying to look like somebody who knew what they were doing. The Goblin looked at the hand that was handing him the key and couldn't help but shudder at the sight of her sharp and blood-covered nail

"This way, Mr. Potter." said the goblin, Griphook, when they finally reached a corridor with many vaults. The goblin opened the vault and if Harry hadn't been dead, his eyes probably would have widened from the amount of money in it. He quickly took the needed amount of money before the goblin closed the vault and they headed back in complete silence.

"Oh goodie" chirped Rin, making Harry cringed for he knew that whenever Rin was acting like a little kid, something bad was bound to happen. "I already bought you the books you need, useless theory that won't serve you shit, if you ask me, so now all we need is a wand, potion supplies and an owl."

"Why an owl?"

"So that you can write to me, of course. If some random git is bothering you, he may...vanish. Completely accidentally, of course. I won't be related to it, in any way."

"Sure, you won't. I wouldn't even dream of it." he sighed as they exited Gringots.

The Apothecary seemed to be a real challenge for both of them. Harry barely managed to tug on his friend's hand and usher her out of the building, before she could open some really gruesome looking jar, filled with with, what resembled, human eyeballs.

Choosing a pet was difficult as the animal had to like their master's personality but seeing that Harry's soul was outside his body made matters more difficult. Finally they bought a beautiful snowy owl which they decided to name Hedwig.

"Now all I need to buy is a wand, right?" asked Harry, trying to remember the things on the list.

"Correct. But we're not going to that old wand maker Ol...Oliv...Olive-something. No. You'll need a custom wand that will serve you despite the fact that your soul is outside your body. We'll go to Knockturnally for that." explained Rin as she dragged him around trying to find the right turn. Unfortunately for both of them, she had an awful sense of direction and they managed to find their way only after twenty minutes of wandering around, attracting weird stares from by-passers. The two walked close to each other, trying not to pay attention to the wizards and witches who stared at them hungrily. Rin knew there were many pedophiles and that one could easily become a victim if they don't pay attention to where they were going. Suddenly a large beefy man approached them:

"Are ya lost, children? Perhaps I can help ya?" he leered at them but the two "children" were not faced by it and continued walking forward before a large hand on their shoulders stopped them.

"Now listen here sweethearts. Ya either come with us or we'll play here." smirked the wizard.

"Go get fucked in the ass!" snarled Rin.

"Ts ts ts. You're the one who's gonna get fucked sweetheart." he said and made a move to tear Rin's dress but at that moment a black pentagram appeared in front of the girl.

"Abeo (Leave)!" hissed Harry. His eyes seemed to glow with a poisonous green light as the pentagram in front of Rin started to grow until it formed a barrier between them and the man, Rin seemed to recognize the spell, despite it being cast unintentionally, and, pulling a knife from nowhere, slashed her wrist open and used the red blood to follow the contours of the pentagram. As its circle was finished, it started to glow with blood red light with some symbols Harry didn't know flying around it. The large wizard's eyes widened as the pentagram closed in on him. The moment his body stood in its center the pentagram vanished, making the man's body explode, splattering blood everywhere.

"Ugh blood of a sinner." sniffed Rin as she thrust her hand, trying to clean it. According to her, the blood of sinners was ugly and dirty and she didn't want to deal with it. They continued walking until finally they reached a small shop at the end of the street

"Konnichiwa (Hello), Arlene!" greeted Rin as they entered inside. A small figured, covered in black shawls so that her skin wasn't visible, slowly rose from a chair, destroying several spiderwebs in the process. The place was dusty and unkempt and seemed like the typical place to film a horror movie.

"Good morning." answered the voice who seemed to belong to a really old woman. "The young one needs a wand, no?"

"Indeed."

"Come now, child. It won't hurt...much." beckoned Arlene as she placed her bony hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Not a lot of customers these days. Not enough business." she kept muttering under her breath as she slashed his wrist open, making a black goo-ish substances slowly flow down the Harry's hand. After collecting all the liquid in a vile, she healed his wrist and proceeded to pluck a feather from the raven that was the boy's soul.

"It will take some time for me to create the wand." croaked the lady as she heated up a cauldron. "Leave now. You're disrupting the spirits. Come later." she ordered as strong wind appeared out of nowhere, chasing them outside and shutting the door behind them.

"She's an old loony but she's the only one who knows how to create wands for somebody like you."

"What is she?"

"The child of a dementor and a human. Don't ask me how that worked. I don't even want to know." she explained, suppressing a shudder. "Come on, let's go get you some robes. I almost forgot we needed to buy them."

When they went into Madame Maulkin's there already was a blonde boy sitting on a chair. The moment Rin noticed the almost-white hair and gray eyes, she hissed and pulled Harry to stand beside her. Quickly pulling out her meat cleaver, she almost flew forward, with the full intention to kill him. Fortunately for him, the boy had quick reflexes and dodged her attack before she could cut him, which resulted in the meat cleaver getting stuck in the floor

"What do you think you're doing, peasant" hissed the boy. Rin was just about to maim him again but than she processed the word "peasant". Now that she looked closely, she could see that the boy's eyes had some blue in them as well as his hair.

_'That's odd. Normally only demons who have reached maturity have streaks in their hair. But he's still a child.'_

"My apologies." she said as she pulled the cleaver off the floor while frowning. "Thought you were an Immortal."

"You are a demon then. I assume you're protecting him." said the boy as he tilted his chin towards Harry."

"Yes. And what are you?"

"Half-human. My mother's an ice demon." answered the boy.

"That's impossible" here Rin scoffed. "Demons can't reproduce."

"Grown demons can't. Other, however, can."

"Explain!" she snarled as she pulled Harry closer. It was her job to protect the boy and, after all this time she spend caring about him, she considered him her son. She was way older than Harry could even begin to imagine.

"My mother hadn't reached maturity when she got pregnant with me. All demons are born human, right? Well my mother comes from an old pureblooded line and she had an arranged marriage. She was still a new demon when she got pregnant with me." while the boy was talking, Rin and Harry were listening, both very interested. Harry didn't know how demons came into being and he wondered if they will talk on this topic but apparently they both possessed that knowledge.

As Madame Maulkin helped Harry with his robes for Hogwarts, the blonde boy and Rin were still talking.

"Malfoy...would you...look after Harry while in Hogwarts. I can't go there. Not until I reach maturity at least."

"Sure. Not like I have anything else to do."

"Thanks." and with that she took Harry's wrist and they headed home...after they paid for the robes, of course.

* * *

**A/N: Hope it was up to your expectations. If you have any questions, review and I'll PM the answers.**


	4. The Journey From Platform 9 and 34

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor the parts in bold**

* * *

It was finally the 1st September: a long-awaited day for all first years...and Rin. The blonde had been up since the crack of dawn and was going back and forth like a typhoon.

"My head is becoming dizzy just by watching you." deadpanned Harry, making Rin finally stop twirling. Of course she glared at him for that comment but who cares about that. "Why are you wearing a dress? I thought you hated them.

"Yes but I'm feeling like a boy today." she sang as she started twirling again. Harry's mind broke down as his mind tried to process the statement.

"What?"

Rin huffed "Demons, just like people mind you, have more than two genders. I, personally, am agendered or genderless if you being said, regardless of my sex, which, as I said, I will find out what it is later on, I'll be a total mind fuck for people to ponder over. If I feel like a girl and if I am a girl, I'll dress like a boy but if I feel like a boy and I am a boy, I'll dress like girl. Oh I can't wait to fuck with people's minds" she sang as she twirled again.

_'Are all demons this weird or is Rin just exceptionally insane?'_ Harry wondered as he tried to find something to do.

"Okay I've packed everything, so you needn't worry your little head" she teased while ruffling the boy's hair. "Here's your wand" a wand was jammed in his chest "Whatever you do, stay away from The Weasleys; they are too far under that manipulative bastard Dumbledore's thumb. Also, I'll teleport you to the train station and if the blond fucker doesn't help you around as promised and you find yourself in some sort of trouble just cut your wrist vertically and think about me..." she trailed off at the end of the sentence as if debating with herself if she should continue and in the end whispered "Miyamoto Akane*" Before the boy could ask what that meant she had already pulled away from Harry and was making some weird hand motions. He saw how everything started to become red until he was lost in a sea of red.

He stood there in that red space as the redness pulsated_ thump thump thump_...it was almost like a heartbeat. Soon enough the redness bled away and he found himself on Platform 9 and 3/4

'Well that was unusual' he thought to himself as he scanned everything around him. Clutching his luggage he started wandering, searching for that blond boy. Alas, he didn't find him; Harry only knew that the boy's name was Malfoy and how he looked like.

Harry suddenly heard the sharp sound of a whistle pierce the air, informing everybody that the train was about to leave. He boarded the train and started searching for an empty compartment. Living people were so tiring and loud that his soul was getting even harder to control when in their presence.

Some time later, while he was completely engrossed by the book he was reading, the door t the compartment opened and the blond Malfoy boy entered.

"There you are" said the boy as he sat across Harry. "I was looking for you earlier but couldn't find you. I was really worried because that girl looked ready to bite my head off if something happens to you. So what's your name?"

At that Harry looked up from his book to pierce Malfoy with his green eye before lowering his gaze yet again "Harry Potter"

"Really?" the boy seemed genuinely shocked but composed himself after a few seconds. "I'm Draco Malfoy. Pleasant to make your acquaintance."

"Same."

And cue a long train ride which was actually one long period of awkward silence.

**The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?" Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.**

**"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"**

**Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much.**

**"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."**

**There was a loud "Oooooh!"**

**The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.**

**"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Draco were followed into their boat by a bushy haired girl and a boy with round face. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!"**

**And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.**

**"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.**

**"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.**  
**"Trevor!" cried the round-faced boy blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.**

**They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.**

**"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"**

**Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.**

* * *

**A/N: Yeah...I was lazy. Sorry. I also had term tests so...please don't hate me.**

**Miyamoto Akane - a Japanese name. First name: Akane (meaning "brilliant red"), surname: Miyamoto (meaning "base of the shrine")**

**The whole story with the name is an important part throughout the book so if I forget about it, somebody please remind me. Thanks. It will be revealed in Book 3 or 4 (if I ever make it to there)**

**I apologise again for the late update.**


	5. The Sorting Hat

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid. "Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes scanned the room, lingering on the round-faced boy and some red-haired kid that had a smudge on his nose.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber and immediately everybody began to chatter. Horrible idle chatter.

"How do you think we'll be sorted?"

"Some sort of test I think. Fred said it hurts a lot but-" Oh in the name of peaceful eternal death SHUT UP, screamed Harry in his mind. This voices, all of these horrible, human, _alive_ voices made his ears bleed. He could feel his heart beat tiredly and heavily, pumping the black gooish substance that was his blood in his whole body. He hated life. He never got to see what life was like. All he had seen was death. All he had _experienced_ was death. Why should other people get the chance to live when he couldn't? What made them so special?

And that's when he felt it: the instant drop of temperature and feeling of peace, of home. The feeling of Death. Smiling a ghostly smile, which would have made people pale from fear had they seen it, he turned towards the source of the people's screams. He saw several ghost which appeared to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. Harry made a sound resembling a 'Tch'

_'What a joke they are. The lot of them. Choosing to be alive, when they could have died, doing nothing to cease their existence.'_ he thought to himself as McGonagall led them to the Great Hall.

The place was quite nice. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Harry felt the stared of everybody fall upon their not-so-little group but he paid them no heed. Why should he be bothered what they think. Something he learned from Rin was that people were quick to judge and you shouldn't let them see your weakness. Some bushy-haired girl was explaining something about the ceiling but Harry wasn't interested in her explanations which were word-to-word as they were in the book.

Harry's attention was then quickly captured by a quite ancient-looking hat perched on a chair, a really dirty and frayed hat. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

As the hat's song finished, Harry's brain was in the middle of breaking down, trying to process the situation but it seemed to have stuck on _'I've waited to go to Hogwarts for this?!' _

Was everybody here crazy? Rin definitely was but she was at least somewhat entertaining. _'I'll lose every bit of rational thought while I'm here. And then Rin will be free to set the country on fire. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-'_ and that went on and on and on...

Meanwhile, the kids' names started getting called but Harry didn't pay attention so as to continue his mental break-down. The fact that Malfoy was in Slytherin, however, somehow seemed to register in his brain.

"Potter, Harry!" called McGonagall at last.

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Harry saw the Great Hall disappear as the Hat was lowered on his head but it was several seconds until the Hat spoke.

"Oh? How peculiar, I haven't sorted a Raven before, now this will be difficult. Make your soul come under the hat, please!" asked the Sorting Hat. Harry carefully brought his hand to the hat and lifted it slightly so that the raven that was his soul would come under the Hat.

"Hmm, difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, Ah my goodness, yes - and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"

Harry just stood there, not really caring where the Hat would put him. Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, what did it matter? He'll still be forced to deal with people who are alive. He sighed. This was going to be exhausting.

"Wants some peace and quiet, hm? Okay then. Better be SLYTHERIN!" the last part was shouted throughout the Great Hall.

As the boy made his way towards the table, no sound could be heard. What a preposterous turn of events; a Potter in Slytherin. But Harry didn't pay attention to the stares and, instead, sat next to Malfoy, who was talking with some pug-faced girl. Nobody said anything to Harry; they didn't want to have anything to do with him and frankly didn't understand how could he be in the same house as them.

Meanwhile on the teacher's table, Snape and McGonagall were on the verge of having a heart attack. A Potter in Slytherin? What a joke!

After the Sorting was done, a white-haired wizard, the Headmaster, Harry presumed, got up from his seat. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. But Harry just stood there, boring his eyes into him, trying to find out if the old man was joking or he was just senile. Scrunching his nose at the blatant disregard for proper manners, he redirected his attention to the food, which had just appeared. He soon regretted his decision, however. He had forgotten how tasteless the food of the living tasted to him.

Suddenly he felt the comforting coldness of Death near him and, as he turned around, he saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. The ghost was standing right next to Malfoy, who didn't look too pleased with that. The ghost met Harry's eyes and for several minutes the two stared at each other before the ghost smirked and glided through Harry and out of the Great Hall. Ignoring the stares from the students who saw the exchange, he turned towards the Headmaster who had just started talking.

"Ahern - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of two red-head twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Some people laughed at this statement.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the red-haired twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

Later when Harry laid in his bed in the Slytherin room, he mentally wished himself good luck. He would need it. Especially when dealing with such stupidity.


	6. The Potions Master

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Right behind the kid with blonde hair."

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. Harry wished they wouldn't, because being the center of attention exhausted him. He wasn't supposed to be alive in the first place, so whenever somebody reminded him that he was, in fact, still breathing, as far as they knew, he felt as if he was being crushed. He felt so much better when it was just him, his soul and Rin in their small cottage by the river in the woods. Peaceful and quite, without unnecessary noise; without unnecessary _life_. Sighing again, he continued searching for his classroom.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Harry was sure the coats of armor could walk.

What really annoyed Harry, however, were the ghosts. It didn't bother him that they glided through the doors he was trying to open; nor did he find Peeves the Poltergeist's antics particularly annoying. No, what truly annoyed him was that all of these creatures of death were so set on living and acting like humans. Perhaps Rin had something to do with his distaste for avoiding death, had he been alive, he would have been completely shocked when he had found her crying tears of blood, wishing for death, but that didn't change his opinion on these creatures.

The classes, as expected, turned out to be a total joke. Not because he wasn't learning anything, quite the contrary, but the teachers had the habit of being conveniently oblivious to some annoying factors such as whispering non-related to the lesson or whenever the students threw various things at him, mainly paper balls. Wasn't that a Muggle tradition?

The History of Magic, however, was very interesting. Figures, it would be one of the most underappreciated classes by the living. It was true that Binns's voice was monotonous but that's what made Harry relatively happy, if he were capable of emotions. The boy could feel the feeling of death filling the room, wrapping around him, pulling him in a comforting embrace as Binns talked. It was truly relaxing and comforting to know that the teacher would have "gone to the light", so to speak, had it not been for his teacher's duty. Didn't he just get Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up? He'll have to go to check later.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight. _'Such an unprofessional thing to do'_ huffed Harry in his mind as he blew the bangs away from his face.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Harry had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to cross. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. At that, the other student were really excited but Harry smiled maliciously for he knew such magic was way too advanced for first-years. Soon enough, everybody sighed in disappointed as they realised that, while Harry wanted to laugh. Was that cruel of him? Perhaps. Did he care? Of course not.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only he and Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how it had gone all silver and, although she awarded points to both their houses, only Hermione was awarded with a smile. Harry couldn't care less about her unprofessionalism.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. _'What a wimp'_ Harry tch'd.

The fact that everybody here knew next to nothing irked the boy to no end. Some of these people came from pureblooded families; yet, they knew as much as the muggleborns, sometimes even less. What?! How was that even possible? Did these people even care about their education, life purpose etc.?

On Friday, he was sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall when Hedwig fluttered onto the table and, after having delivered a letter to her owner, started nibbling on Harry's toast. The Raven immediately recognized Rin's strange handwriting. All of the letters were in different sizes yet managed to remain strangely structured, like the majority of the Japanese characters, he had seen a good deal of them on various occasions, and her writing was incredibly sloppy, unstructured and, frankly, quite chaotic. As if she had written it with her eyes closed.

Dear Harry,

I found out that Dumbledore keeps a Cerberus in the school in order to protect something from Voldemort, officially. That's total bullshit: he's only doing it so that he can train you for you fight with the bastard. Start working your way into the "mystery", act like a nosy brat and all that shit. Make sure you act the exact way he wants but keep your head clear,ok? I don't trust that blond fucker to do as I requested from him, so you're on your own. Leila informed me that the headmaster expected from you to make at least two friend: the youngest Weasley boy and some muggleborn named Granger. I already told you to stay away from the ginger and I stand by my words, you'll have to find someone to replace him. The girl, however, can be turned into a various asset if we stir her away from the manipulative geezer.

Love,

Rin

P.S. - If you find yourself trapped into an extremely dangerous situation, just think about the name I told you

P.S.S. - Don't tell that name to **ANYBODY!**

The last word was underlined several times; a remarkable feat, considering the fact that she had needed to make an arch so that she could underline the word without crossing it out. After Harry snatched his quill, he started searching for the small vial of blood, Rin had given him while packing his luggage. She had instructed him, for some reason, to only write to her using blood instead of ink. He had found the request really odd at that time, but then again that was Rin, so he decided to humour her.

Struggling hard to write using blood, he finally managed to scribble a barely-legible response. Fucking hell, was that hard!

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Considering the..."decoration", Harry's maniacal grin was quite understandable.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. _'Hypocritical slime'_ sneered Harry mentally Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black, cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Quite a brilliant speech, until he said that last part. Harry immediately understood exactly what kind of a person Snape was: a petty with grudges and unresolved issues.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"A sleeping potion which is known as the Draught of Living Death." drawled out Harry as he arched his eyebrow. Snape's eyes widened just barely before he composed himself and he bared his teeth.

"Well then, if you believe yourself to be so smart, Potter, tell me where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"In the stomach of a goat, sir."

Did that man think he was an idiot? Well, apparently. This was all basic knowledge that he learned when he was very small. Whenever he couldn't sleep, which was happening more and more often lately, he would stay up, reading books: fantasy, stories, school books, it didn't matter; he liked them all.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. What an indecent way to act! Wasn't she taught in primary school that you shouldn't wave your hand around like a maniac, because it disturbed the thought process of the others? Apparently not.

"There is no difference, sir. They are the same plant, which is also known as aconite."

Even though the answer was correct, Snape seemed livid as he snarled that everybody should copy all of this down. Then, Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor,  
burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? One point from Slytherin."

'Is he fucking serious?!' Harry thought as he gritted his teeth. What an uncivilized biased human _living_ swine! How dare he?! He was supposed to help the students, teach them moral values, bu, instead, tore down their knowledge of human kindness? What an idiot! Children's innocence needs to be preserved while _carefully_ tearing down their naivety. They should be introduced slowly and gradually into reality; not suddenly thrust into it. Was that man an idiot?

An hour later, as Harry was heading back to the dungeons, he decided not to tell Rin about the greasy-haired teacher. She hated people who deprived children of their childish innocence and violently destroyed their naivety. Not only will she kill him, but she will also make sure it was more painful than Hell.

* * *

**A/N: Here it is! Was it good? Did it meet your expectations? R&R**

Okay, seeing as how I am a narcissistic person when it comes to my writing, I thought of **a game** we can play: Each of you will guess stuff about my story and if the guess is correct, I'll reveal details about my story plot that probably won't make it in the story. Kind of like Pottermore but for my story. You can guess everything: plot, personality, the character's past. That will show me how good/bad I am at foreshadowing. So what do you think? If you want to play, just write your guess in the reviews. If you're correct, I'll PM you and reveal sth about the story/characters.


	7. Flight In The Middle Of The Night

**ABOUT THE PAIRINGS/SHIPS/WHATEVER YOU WANT TO CALL IT IN THIS FIC: In this fic and the sequel there won't be any pairings. Whenever Harry mentions his doubts about somebody's sexuality, there's nothing implied. Of course if you're into that sort of thing, you can take it as a sign but Non-slash/Non-Yaoi shippers stay assured, I did not intended it to be. I repeat: no pairings/ships what so ever in this fic. Actually in this universe/series, ships will only be used for plot development. If you expect a light-hearted story, please enjoy the first two fics in the series but later, in Year 3, this shit gets incredibly dark.**

* * *

Harry had never believed that he would meet a person such a hypocritical and annoying person but apparently Draco Malfoy truly was one of a kind. Pity that they were in the same house. He couldn't even get him in trouble because that would lose Slytherin points most of the school cared about. It was bad enough that he was famous, he didn't need to receive any more attention. It was distracting and more than a little annoying. He couldn't even focus on the task that Rin had so kindly thrusted upon him. Where did she get all that information anyways? Tch. Probably She ((A/N: Morrígan is referred to as She/Her/etc. by Harry and all of Morrígan's...helpers (creatures like Rin, Leila etc.)) had told her so that Rin could protect Hary better. Still, she was annoying and lazy.

Time passed and Thursday came: a day Harry had cursed internally ever since he found out that Gryffindor and Slytherin were having flying lessons together. Great, even more idiots to deal with. As if that wasn't enough, Malfoy hadn't shut up for a single second ever since he found out about it. It was flying this and flying that, as well as Weasley this and Weasley that. Seriously, he talked about the ginger so much that if Harry hadn't noticed him ogling Pancy Parkinson knicker's when the wind had lifted up her skirt last week, he would have thought that hate wan't the only thing Malfoy felt towards the other boy.

On Thursday, Harry contemplated ditching just so he wouldn't deal with the idiots but, alas, he couldn't do that. Instead, he got up and went to breakfast, swearing like a sailor under his breath. If even a single person dared to even so much as look at him, he was ready with a nifty little curse that would give the offender emotionally-scaring hallucinations and dreams for a whole day. As he was eating the (incredibly tasteless) breakfast, a barn owl flew into the room and landed on Gryffindor's table. Neville, the round faced boy with the frog, opened it excitedly and showed his fellow housemates a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke, which, according to Neville's words, was a remembrall. Apparently it told you when you had forgotten to do something, but Harry deemed it completely useless due to the fact that it didn't reveal what is it that you had forgotten. Useless stuff. Oh, how he hated them. Of course Malfoy, being the stuck-up pureblood he was, snatched the remembrall from Neville's hand. At that moment, Harry wanted to slam his face on the table. Of course, nothing happened because McGonagall had interfered before the idiot could do anything even more...well, idiotic.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harry and the other Slytherins were already on the smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance when the Gryffindors finally decided to grace them with their presence. There were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground, which, according to rumours, started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left. Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk. "Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"'

"UP" everyone shouted. Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all. Perhaps brooms, like horses, could tell when you were afraid, thought Harry; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry felt malicious contentment bubble up in him when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years. Finally something that'll shut the fucker up.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and - WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight. Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his. "Broken wrist," Harry heard her mutter. "Come on, boy - it's all right, up you get.".

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him. It was a pathetic sight but humans were fragile and cried easily, so it wasn't really a surprise.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"You. Are. An. Arse. (**(A/N: whoever gets the "You. Are. An. Ass." reference gets a cookie))** Malfoy, if you're thinking of what I think you're thinking." drawled out Harry as he glared at his housemate. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy, the smug prick, only smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry glared, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Pity that is, Harry had hoped that he would fall and break something. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

"Yeah, right." right Harry humorously and took the wand out of his pocket. "Accio remembrall."

In the next instant, the object flew into his hand, leaving a stunned Malfoy to clutch the air. Smiling smugly, Harry dusted off imaginary dust from his robes and shoved the remembrall into Granger's hand.

"Here. Give it to him when you next see him."

"S-sure." she stuttered in response, clearly still in awe that he had performed a spell which was above their year level.

"DRACO MALFOY!"

Everybody turned to look at the very enraged Professor McGonagall who was running towards them.

"Never - in all my time at Hogwarts -"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how dare you - might have broken your neck -. Follow me. NOW!"

When Malfoy made no move, McGonagall took his ear in her hands and started dragging him towards the castle.

After the class ended, Harry felt somebody pull his sleeve and when he turned around, ha came face to face with a fidgeting Hermione Granger.

"What is it, Granger?"

"I was wondering if-seeing as how you summoned the remembrall, even though we weren't suppose to know that spell yet-and I was wondering, if you would, well, help me...learn new spells."

Harry was about to say no to her request when he suddenly remembered Rin's letter.

"Fine." he agreed, making Hermione's face brighten considerably. "There are, however, some conditions."

"Oh." the girl's face immediately fell "What are they?"

"First: you don't ask me any personal questions."

"I can do that."

"And second: you do everything the way I tell you do it. Even if the books say something completely different.

"But-" she started to protest but Harry interrupted her.

"These are my conditions. Take it or leave it." he said making her know that it was a final

The girl sighed dejectedly but nodded her head in agreement.

"We have a deal" smiled Harry but to Hermione it seemed like a wolfish grin and, frankly, it send shivers down her spine. "Meet you at midnight in the trophy room, that's always unlocked."

"But the curfew-" she started to protest but Harry had already ran off towards his next class.

Hermione arrived at the trophy room at exactly twelve o'clock but couldn't see Harry anywhere.

"He probably tricked me. How could I have been so stupid." she mumbled to herself.

"Good to know how high you think of me, Granger." whispered someone in her ear, making Hermione scream. Or at least, she would have screamed if a pale hand hadn't silenced her.

"Don't or they'll hear us." hissed Harry through gritted teeth before removing his hand.

They had been practicing for only twenty minutes when they heard a noise in the next room that made them jump. It was Filch talking to his cat Mrs. Norris

"Somebody must have overheard us talking and has alerted Filch." Harry hissed angrily as he seized Hermione's hand by the wrist and ran like Rin from a church.

They ran through what seemed to be the whole castle when they finally decided to stop and let Hermione catch her breath. Unfortunately, neither of them knew where exactly they were. Suddenly they heard a crashing sound not too far off and, having no other choice, quickly ran into the only room in sight after unlocking the door with an Alohomora. They heard some shuffling from the other side of the door but it quickly went away. Filch must have given up.

They weren't in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant. When Rin said a Cerberus, Harry hadn't imagined something at least a tad bit smaller. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do with this, so he seized the doorknob.

They fell backward - Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared - all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached what they both had deemed to be a safe place.

"That thing-it was standing-on something." panted out Hermione.

"Yeah. But we'll discuss it another time, ok? Somewhere safe. Right now, we should get to bed."

And with these final words they parted.

Instead of sleeping, Harry tried to think of what that dog could have been guarding.


End file.
